AS TOLD BY AN ATHLETE
The Might of
the Boston Marathon
WITH STEPHANIE BRUCE
PHOTOGRAPHY BY BUCK SQUIBB
Running any marathon is a milestone. But running Boston? That’s legacy. Chasing the cherished and challenging course is a lifetime goal for many, while for others, like professional runner Steph Bruce, it’s a twenty-time tradition. The beauty of Boston is that no matter how many times you toe the line, the might of the marathon transcends the miles, forging a deeper motivation that can only be molded by true mettle.
Steph Bruce from
the Start Line
It’s 6:45 am, I just finished a bowl of white rice and applesauce, and I’m holding my coffee as the cheers get louder and louder. Amongst fellow marathoners, I walk through the lobby of the Fairmount Copley in Boston, making my way through a tunnel of people – staff, coaches, agents, family, race volunteers – all clapping and cheering as we head to load the buses to the top of the course. It’s a simple, yet sentimental tradition to start Marathon Monday.
And on this Marathon Monday, Boston wouldn’t turn out to be everything that I wanted it to be. But, nonetheless, it forever became one of the more memorable 26.2 miles I’ve run.
“Sometimes going in one more round when you don’t think you can. That makes all the difference in your life.” - Rocky Balboa
I am on the start line. I am calm. I am curious. The conditions are near perfect. You could call it a “no excuse day”. The countdown begins and we’re off: my 20th marathon is underway.
The pack is huge, what I expected. The pace is pedestrian (at least for the caliber and résumés of the field). Five months prior, I ran 2:28 at the California International Marathon. Now, I’m leading the Boston Marathon. I was running 5:40 pace no matter where I stood – whether I was in the back, in the front, or on my own. It’s what I trained to do.
Within the next 5k, I’m feeling off. The splits aren’t coming naturally, and I plead with my body.
“Don’t let me down now because we still have 19 miles to go”.
In those moments, it can be difficult to hold onto belief, knowing the outcome you dreamed of is most likely not in the cards.
Stay curious. Stay present. Stay strong.
As the course continues, I run through patches of feeling smooth and steady, and then my legs and body would lose the momentum in an instant. Through Natick and Wellesley to Newton, I lean into the thousands of miles I logged over the years, the screaming spectators, and at one point, I even reflect on giving birth to my kids. The marathon will do wild things to you. You bargain with it. “Just let my hamstrings and quads hold up”, I beg.
I hit mile 22, theoretically over the toughest parts of the course, and I so badly want to just let it rip. That’s what you dream about, what I envisioned this winter and spring while training out on Lake Mary Road, ascending and descending the hilliest routes in Flagstaff. But instead of storming home, I’m being humbled as I head there.
I want to yell at my body, command it to “GO”, but I’m already trying so hard and I just can’t move any faster. The men from Wave 1 have now caught many of us running in the 2:30s. They are zooming past. They are having their moments, and it feels like mine is slipping away with every mile.
But in reality, this is when you find true meaning and motivation. You discover why you run and what you’re really in this for. In those raw, exposed moments you can see how much fight you have in you. Nothing else matters but getting to the finish line. And not just for me. For all the people who have my back.
Training for and racing the Boston Marathon began with the intention of finding out who I am now as a runner. As a 41-year-old mom of three, balancing chasing dreams and motherhood, I’m finding there is so much meaning in what I’m still trying to do. I have this 2nd chance in my running career post-kids as a Masters athlete.
The timeline might not always match up with what I want, but I know it’s my path and I own it. I found out in Boston that I fight the hardest when I’m the furthest from my goals. After all, forging ahead is easy when you’re feeling good and on the brink of success. But the races you remember are the ones you earn. I earned this 2:36:09, this finish line, these unbelievable sore quads and hamstrings, and hopefully I earned a chance in my heart to go after it again.